The 21st Annual Hunger Games
by AvalonJackson21
Summary: SYOT! Send in your tributes before it's too late! Read and follow to see who will become the strongest, weakest, wisest, fastest, most cunning, and winner of the 21st hunger games.
1. District One-Reapings

**So I got a review saying that I wasn't following the guidelines and my story would be reported and deleted if I didn't post an actual story. The problem is, I don't have all the tributes. In order to update again, I'm going to need a male tribute for district two, so please SYOT. There are _plenty_ of spots open. **

**Sierra-Amber Kelsch: District 1**

_I can see him running. His eyes are wild, sagging with fatigue and hunger. If I listen hard enough, I hear his shallow breathing and his chest panting from the exercise._

_He's headed towards the cornucopia. God I hope he knows what he's doing…_

_He's made it, skidding to a halt in front of the career's supplies. He could have been a career too, but he was nervous, too afraid of what might happen when they no longer needed him. _

_I can see him shifting through boxes and bags, stuffing apples and beef jerky, and even a couple knives into his rough canvas sack. The games are almost over; only six were left now, four of them careers. _

_He pauses and listens, and thanks to the high-definition quality of the large screen in town square, where every second of the games is played in horrible glory, I can hear it too._

_Footsteps._

_Run Dakota! Run! I plead with the screen, and see him running out of the cornucopia, obeying my silent command. _

_Then he stops, bends down to pick up a small circular object. A ring. His district token. _

_Everyone in the town square can see another tribute now, hiding half way behind the metal rim of the cornucopia, silently watching Dakota scrabble for his ring, and readies a bronze arrow into the bow string. _

_A cannon blows._

_And it's over. _

XXX

I wake up shivering, from both the cold and the nightmare, gooseflesh* covering every inch of my body. I try getting up, only to find myself tangled in the thin sheets on my bed. I must have thrashed around when Dakota died.

I glance over at Summer, just beginning to wake up from her slumber. She's the lucky one, in so many ways it's hard to keep track. Summer's only eight, so she doesn't have to have her finger pricked and blood taken today, standing in town square crushed against the other 17 year olds, waiting to see who will die for us. Summer was too young to realize exactly why Dakota died; she didn't even know he was really dead. She just thought he went somewhere better, somewhere far from here.

It's much better that way.

I walk over to her bed and gently shake her shoulder, rousing her.

"Wa-waz going on?" She yawned sleepily.

"Time to get up Summer. Reaping's today. Ya gotta get ready to go to the stands with mom."

She sighed and rolled over, hugging the sheets.

"I'll be up in five."

It was my turn to sigh. At least she was half-awake.

I showered, singing softly as the water hit my skin. Lucky for me, district one was one of the wealthy districts, allowing me for lukewarm water in the mornings.

As I stand in front of the dirty mirror in me and Summer's room, I dress in a matted purple dress, put my auburn hair in a bun on my neck, and lightly coat the eyelashes around my dark green eyes with an amazing luxury only district one and the capital are provided; mascara.

On normal days, I wouldn't let myself look so weak like this. On a normal day, I would be kicking butt at the career training academy.

Yes, I know what everyone thinks; why is Sierra-Amber training to be a blood-thirsty career when her own brother was killed by them? Well they have the story wrong.

Dakota was killed by Flora, a girl tribute from 10, the only other one left in the final six who wasn't a career. She didn't win.

I walk down the hallway to the third room in our small house. Kitchen/Living Room.

Annalise, my mom, is flipping pancakes.

"Ready for the reaping Sierra?" Mom's the only one in the district who only calls me by my first name, not Sierra-Amber like everyone else.

"As ready as I'll ever be." I growl. It's not because I'm mad at her. I love my mom to death, and respect her for the hard work she does with Summer and me, especially as a single mom. It's the games I hate.

By the time I reach town square, my friend Scarlet is waiting for me to get checked in. When I reach her, she smiles.

"Hey Si. You gonna volunteer today?"

I laughed sourly.

"Ha. I don't think so. One more year and I'm home free, girlfriend. Unless someone I care about is reaped…"

We were interrupted by our escort, Dolly.

"Hello district one! And welcome to the reaping of the 21st annual HUNGER GAMES!" She projects like a freaken' announcer.

"Let's start with the ladies, shall we?" Her smile spreads wide across her, pulling her powder covered skin tight, showing all the plastic surgeries. I rolled my eyes. _Capital people._

Her perfectly manicured hand dips into the plastic bowl, long, blood-red nails scratching the sides. She pulls out a slip, and if you listen closely, you can hear the collective gasp of the crowd, all together in perfect harmony, as they lean closer to see who will die for them this year. It's absolutely sickening.

"And this year's female tribute issssssss….." She milks that cow for all it's worth until she _has _to take a gasp for air.

"SCARLET PINGATORRE!"

Oh, crap. This is _not _good.

I stare at Scarlet as she makes her way up to the stage. I have to admit, her poker face was _excellent_. Then I remember what I said earlier, to the very girl walking solemnly now to Dolly and her paint-on smile.

_Unless someone I care about is reaped._

At first it comes out in a whisper.

"I volunteer as tribute."

Then louder.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Until I'm screaming at the whole freakin' district.

"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"

I walk up. As I pass Scarlet, I can hear her raspy voice whispering in my ear- "Thank you."- and I realize that she was secretly a scared little girl, not the strong 17 year old friend of mine. The games can do that to you in a fraction of a second.

"Time for the males!" Dolly says, after shaking my hand, her nails leaving small scratches.

It's then that I realize.

This isn't a curse, or draw of fate.

It's a blessing.

**Sky Tuel-District 1**

Not surprisingly, it's Uncle Krael who wakes me up on reaping day.

"Get up boy! What kind of impression will the capital have if you arrive late to volunteer?"

I shrug his rough hand away and sit up groggily. My sheets fall off the mattress in a slump.

"You have ten minutes, tops. Got it?"

I yawn and nod. Uncle Krael may seem mean, but he's going to be my mentor this year, so I might as well behave today.

I stumble blindly into the shower, turning on the water. I love the feeling of warm droplets hitting my skin, reminding me how wealthy district one is, compared to the others of Panem.

"And wake up your sister!" Uncle Krael yells from down the hallway.

Turning off the shower, I quickly get dressed. Black tuxedo pants and a dark collar shirt. I slick back my brown hair, spiking it up in the front. I stand and admire my reflection.

"'Morning, Sky."

I turn around to see my little sister Brandy, standing in the doorway, rubbing her huge green eyes and tugging at the bottom of her night-gown.

"Why are you up so early?" I ask.

"Reaping day. Have to be." Brandy's only four, at yet she's some kind of genius child. It's practically impossible to lie to her and get away with it. No one had to explain the games to her. She figured it out from watching the reapings in the stands with mom and dad.

"Well I would have woken you up later."

Brandy doesn't argue or say a word. She walks over directly in front of me and motions for me to lean down. When I do, she wraps her tiny arms around my neck.

"Good luck." She whispers.

Brandy knows I'm going to volunteer today. And she knows what happens if I don't come home.

I hug her tightly.

After I help her get dressed in her reaping best, we walk down the hall together. The rest of the family's already waiting by the door.

"Ready?" Mom asks, me and Brandy, Brandy still clutching my hand.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Uncle Krael slaps me on the back. "There's the spirit!" He chuckles and walks out the door.

Mom picks up Brandy and follows suit.

I grab a muffin of the counter before leaving the house with Dad, possibly forever.

_Don't think like that. You're giving up before you've even started. Remember Keenia._

My blood bubbles just thinking about what I'm going to do once I get in the arena. How I'm going to make them pay for murdering Keenia.

We arrive at time square at least thirty minutes early. The family splits up, Uncle Krael going to the stage (since he's the mentor this year), Mom, Dad, and Brandy going to the stands, and me going to check in, placing myself with the other 16 year olds.

My friend Connelly Tad arrives shortly after.

"Hey Sky." He seemed out of breath.

"Did you run here?" I ask, smiling.

"Had to. Woke up late. Sarah wanted to get here early to scope out competition."

"Right. Man, that would be weird. If Sarah and me ended up as the tributes."

Sarah was Connelly's 18 year old sister, and was planning to volunteer today.

He didn't get a chance to answer, for our escort, Dolly, had arrived.

She did her welcomes, sounding like a Barbie doll on a high, and drew a name out of the girls bowl first. I freaked out, which didn't make sense, since I was a dude and didn't need to volunteer yet. I stand there, my eyes wide, heart beating. What the heck is wrong with me?

When Dolly calls out in the microphone, I swear I hear the name Keenia Cottam, and almost have a heart attack. It takes a while for the fact that Dolly called Scarlet Pingatorre and not Keenia Cottam, to sink in.

"Aw man! That Sierra girl volunteered before Sarah! Sarah's gonna be peed-off tonight."

I try to respond but can't.

I'm thinking about my last moments with Keenia.

And I almost faint.

Connelly steadies me. "Whoa dude. You okay?"

I nod and try to swallow. "Ya, I'm fine. Just thinking… nevermind. I'm fine."

Connelly doesn't seem convinced.

I focus on Sierra-Amber Kelsch walking up to the stage. At first she looks down-right shocked she volunteered, until a small smile flashes across her lips.

I knew who Sierra-Amber was alright. She was only a year older than me, and trained five days a week at the academy, like me. Since very few people do that much training, we often get paired up to practice sparing. She's _really _good.

Dolly reaches into the boy's bowl, and it's my turn to smile.

"And the lucky male this year is… SKY TUEL!"

Wait, what?

I almost laugh. Looks like I won't have to volunteer.

Halfway up the stage, someone yells.

"I volunteer as tribute!" I turn around wildly. I shrimpy kid from the 14 section comes up.

"No."

"What's that?" Dolly asks.

"I said no. I'm going to fight for district one, not him." My voice is strong. The crowd goes silent. Sierra looks me over, recognition dawning on her face.

"Um…" Dolly has no clue what to do. She turns to the mentors, just as Uncle Krael stands up and walks to the microphone.

"Seeing as Sky Tuel has turned down the offer from the willing volunteer, I decree that he shall be tribute for district one."

The 14 year old looks like he's going to argue against Uncle Krael. I look at him, giving a death stare. If wants to go that badly, he'll go with a black eye.

He turns around and walks back, his head hung in shame, just as my fist starts to clench.

"Well… um… there you have it! The tributes for district one! SIERRA-AMBER KELSCH AND SKY TUEL!"

As I shake Sierra's hand, a million things race through my mind, one thing sticking out the most.

I want her as an ally.

***gooseflesh is how Stephan King describes goosebumps. I just think the word sounds cool and soooo much better. :)**

**What did you think of Sierra-Amber? How are the games a blessing for her? and what about Sky and wanting Sierra as an ally? I need reviews so I know who is the fan favorite so far! **

**Please SYOT so I can continue writing. I need a boy for district two next!**


	2. District Two-Reapings

**So so sad... only got 2 reviews :( If this is gonna work I need support! I was having trouble writing this and school has been a real pain. (Have I already said that? Oh well. It's true.) I know the boy has, like, ****_no _****story at all, but that's only because he's going to die quickly anyway. He was really just a boring character.  
I will be putting up a poll soon to see who you think will last longer so far. Once I do... please go vote!  
One more thing before ya get to the games; I need both tributes for district three before I can update again! SYOT is still ****_wide _****open. List and questions on ma profile.  
Now go! Be free! :) **

**District Two-Reapings**

**Ariah Kromilov-16**

I'm up before dawn, treading lightly into the kitchen, as not to make a sound, and yet, my parents are still up before me; dressed, primped, and sipping morning coffee. As every other reaping day, I can only imagine how they do it. My parents were born careers, who never got their glory days. And thankfully too, because if they had, I never would have been born, and given the chance to fight in the arena.

I'm volunteering today. No surprise there.

"Good morning mother. Good morning father."

"Hello Ariah. Still not up early enough I see." My mother says, judgingly.

I sigh, gathering my bag for training. "Training lasted until 10 o'clock last night."

"Speaking of which, shouldn't you be headed over now? There can never be too much preparation." My father tells me.

"Of course. I'm meeting Nix at the center to practice."

I left, letting the door shut tight behind me. Right before it closed I could barely hear mother say to dad over her coffee cup;

"Such a nice boy."

My heart warmed up, letting go a stream of colorful language. I hated, hated, _hated_ feeling vulnerable and weak. But since approval from my parents was so hard to get, I enjoyed the moment for about half a second before pulling myself together.

By the time Nix came, I had already skewered six practice dummies with knives and two with arrows, three a piece.

I absolutely love it when someone comes in and sees me practicing, especially if they've never seen me train before. Their eyes get wide and their mouths hang open like fly-traps. After flipping around and stabbing more stuff, (boring, mostly, on my part), I stare straight at them, dark green eyes threatening, posed in a way that clearly shows the long knife by my side. _Yah I kick ass. Got a problem with it? _Works every time.

Except for Nix. The first time I tried my deadly-and-you-know-it thing with him, he gave me a lopsided smile and showed off some skills of his own. Throwing knives, flipping through the air with perfection. But what I liked most was how well he could shoot. His bow was handcrafted, little symbols on the side showing how many years he's used it. When Nix pulled back the feathered arrow, there was nothing in the world but him and the target. He never misses.

"Good morning beautiful." He leaned over and kissed me, ignoring the fact that I was still holding three knives at once.

Oh yah. One more thing about the oh-so-charming Nix. He's my boyfriend.

XXX

The reaping is starting. Rows and rows of kids and teens are standing stiff. This is the moment I've waited for my whole life.

I throw a quick glance at Nix. He smiles and I know he believes in me.

District two's escort, Casper, is already unfolding a slip. He doesn't even get to finish pronouncing the name before I yell.

"FRANCIS V-"

"I VOLUNTEER!"

I dashed up to the stage, thanking God that the tight blue dress I wore specially for the capital was cut so my long, tan legs could rush to Casper.

Casper offers out his hand to me, but I don't take it. Instead, I stare straight at the many cameras filming the reaping, and give a deadly smile, dark eyes flashing, just like I had practiced so many times in the mirror.

Oh I can't wait to get to the capital.

**Braeden Rasmussen-18**

I don't volunteer.

I am reaped.

Oh crap.


	3. District Three-Reapings

**Hey everyone! So so sorry it took me forever to update, but finals were crazy. It's summertime now! So I should be able to update often, as long as I have SYOTs! Can't continue until I have a boy for district three. I posted the girl because I got tired of waiting, but I am reminding you now. SYOT!  
Oh, and review too.**

**Lauren Raindrop-15**

I wake up to two identical faces staring down at me.

"It's about time you woke up."

"Ya, you sleep like a rock."

I grumble and throw a pillow at my sisters.

"It's too early for this!"

Jessica cocks her head to one side, letting her pretty brown curls fall off her shoulder.

"What are you talking about? It's almost noon already."

Alexandra nods in agreement, the same brown curls bobbing up and down. It's only then that I realize they're both dressed in long green dress, shiny clips in their hair. It's reaping day.

I bolt out of bed and fly into the bathroom all three of us share.

"Gosh guys! Why didn't you wake me up sooner?!" I scramble for my toothbrush, hitting my hand hard on the countertop. I bight back curse words as Jessica and Alexandra watch me from the doorway.

"I told you. You sleep like a rock." Alexandra says.

I spit into the dirty sink and splash water on my face. I stop and look at them.

Taking a deep breath, I say, "Can you help me find something to wear please?" I put the sound of need into my voice. "You guys always know how to dress better than me."

_And _I _always know how to butter up little sisters._

Wide grins break across their faces as they rush off to the tiny closet in the hallway. I can hear their voices filled with excitement as they discuss wither or not to make me wear polka-dotted tights.

_This might have been a mistake. Oh well. Hair issues now, clothing later. _

I yank a brush through my hair and yelp as a clump of brown is snagged in the brush. This is _so _not my day.

Finally, I manage to get my hair combed. Next to the twins, I'm rather plain. Straight, shoulder-length hair that loves to frizz out as soon as I step outside. The only thing remarkable about me is my bright green eyes. Jessica and Alexandra's are just brown.

When I step out from the bathroom, Jessica and Alexandra are standing there with some sort of outfit behind their backs.

"Put this on, but don't look in the mirror."

"Ya, we want to see your reaction first hand."

They throw a bundle of cloth at me, shove me back into the bathroom, and promptly shut the door.

I struggle to slip on the dress. I can see it's purple and glittery.

_This is gonna be interesting._

"Okay! I'm done!"

The twins skip into the bathroom. The room is small already, but with all three of us in here, it's getting claustrophobic. They turn me around and I look at my reflection.

I stare for a good minute.

"It sure is… fluffy."

Because it is. There are so many layers in the dress that it looks like I'm wearing a tutu. A lavender tutu. The top is a little tight, but I think I can manage. There are fake diamonds across the top and sewn in random places on all the layers.

I'm jarred out of my staring by my mom's voice from the bathroom door.

"C'mon girls. We're gonna be late."

By the time we get to town square, we are late. The area is already packed, hundreds of people smashed into a tiny little square in the hot midday. Not the best thing in the world.

I take my place amongst the 15 year-olds. Jessica and Alexandra head off to the 13 section. Our escort sashays across the stage, like she's a model. She very well could be. Her name is Genesis, and she's had so many surgeries, it might be more than Caser Flickerman.

She elegantly sticks her perfectly manicured hand into the bowl and draws a name. No hesitation at all; that's just the kind of get-down-to-business kind of woman she is.

"JESSICA RAINDROP."

Both Jessica and Alexandra start clinging to each other. They can't be separated; it would kill them. Alexandra yells through tears,

"I volunteer!"

Then Jessica cries harder.

"No, I volunteer!"

"You can't! I do!"

This whole thing goes on for about two minutes before Genesis gets frustrated.

"Who is going to these bloody games?!"

Everyone is silent.

"I volunteer." It comes out almost in a sigh as I walk to the stage.

Jessica and Alexandra cry again, but they don't try to volunteer, now that they can be together.

Genesis smiles, now that things are back on track. "And what's your name dear?"

"Lauren Raindrop."

"All righty then. On to the males!"


	4. District Four-Reapings

**Brook Rovalt- 16**

I don't hate the games, I don't love the games. The games happen, and there's nothing you can do about it- I get that. Every year, you stand shoulder to shoulder with all the other kids, and as you look around, you recognize the girl you played hopscotch with yesterday, the boy who liked your dress, the older girl who did your hair in braids, and you think- I hope one of them gets picked and not me. I hope I'm safe this year.

It's a horrible thought, but I'm not ashamed to think it. Everyone is thinking the same exact thing; about their worst enemy, the kid who cheated at checkers, that one guy who ripped you off while you were buying fishing nets so your family could eat that day. It's the circle of life, making its toll. Sometimes I used to think that if the majority was thinking about a specific person they wanted to get picked, that person would. Scary thought, right? Almost like karma.

When my sister and I got to the town square that year, I never would have thought the person getting the karma would be me.

By the time I had woken up that morning, peacekeepers were already patrolling the oceans, making sure that nobody escaped. The sun was already half-risen, coloring the sky light oranges and purples. Our little house was right on the beach. You could walk outside fifteen yards and be waist deep in water.

I walked into my sister's room and gently shook her shoulder. I really liked being in her room. The walls were a light indigo color, decorated with all different kinds of pressed wildflowers she had laminated. Today was her first reaping.

"Krissy wake up."

She slowly sat up, the comforter sliding down her legs, and rubbed the sleep out of her pale blue eyes.

"It's today, isn't it?" By "it", she was referring to the Reaping.

"Yes." She nodded, her tiny head bobbing up and down, shaking her short blonde hair.

"I'm gonna go get dressed, okay?" I told her before leaving. She nodded again, and I closed the door.

I stared into my closet and pulled out a clean, new, white dress. My hair, which had been tied up for sleeping, now tumbled down to my waist. I straight blond waterfall. My feet are donned in matching white sandals, and on my neck is my silver butterfly necklace.

Krissy walks into my room.

"Ready?" She nods again and we walk out the door.

My mother Jamie is already at the stands. She left early that morning to buy extra food for the feast I wouldn't get to eat.

I smile at her, give Krissy's hand a squeeze, and go stand in my age group.

Throughout the escort's talking all I can think is, _two more years two more years just two more years you can relax in two more years_.

But then my name is called.

And I curse at myself as I walk up the aisle, like some demented bride. _What a coincidence I'm wearing white. _

_What a fool I was to think I could possibly be safe. Nobody's safe under the capital's eyes. _

_And I'm defiantly not. _

**Landon Leigh- (14)**

"You smell like fish." My sister Laurel proclaims, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"No, I smell like the sea. There's a difference."

"Well does the sea stink as bad as fish?" She runs away from my room before I can think of a come-back.

"Siblings." I sigh.

I've been standing in front of the mirror in my room since I woke up, trying on all kinds of different outfits. Normally, I couldn't care less about what I wore, as long as I could swim, sweat, and occasionally bleed in it. But today… today matters. I wouldn't want to get called to the Capital in baggy old jeans and a tee shirt, now would I?

Finally I decide. A dark blue collared shirt and black shorts. I turn around and stare at my empty closet floor. I didn't own dress shoes.

Oh well. The capital would have to do with flip-flops.

I walk down stairs, and see my younger brother Cody eating cereal.

I sit down next to him.

"Laurel's right. You do smell like fish." He smiles.

"Oh shut up. You nervous?"

I didn't like asking him that- I knew it would only make it worse- but I had to. I was his older brother, his role model. Cody hadn't been training for very long, and could barely lift a sword, let alone swing and hit something.

When I asked the question Cody looked down into the soggy wheat.

"I don't know. Kind of. I mean, I've done this before and I wasn't even close. The guy last year was sixteen. My name's only in there twice."

And while he did have a point, _everyone's _name was only in the bowl the number of times it _had _to be. District 4 wasn't a poor district.

I smacked him lightly on the back, good old fashioned brotherly love. "You'll be fine."

My parents came down the stairs, Laurel in tow.

There came a knock on the door, but I already knew who would be on the other side.

"I'll get it!"

I unlock the door, not even bothering to open it. Karrie opens it herself and walks straight through the hallway to the kitchen.

"What's up Codreith?" Karrie's the only one Cody lets call him by his full name.

"The sky."

Karrie laughs, throwing back a mane of black curls.

"You ready to go?" She asks, directing her green eyes on me.

"Yeah. Come on Cody." I turn to my parents and Laurel. "See you guys at the stands."

We walk out the front door, our little trio, with no idea that the next hour would change my life.

XXX

Karrie's on the stage, sitting in the mentor seat.

Cody's with the thirteen year-olds.

My parents and eight-year-old Laurel are in the stands behind us.

All I can think about- as I stand next to my best friend Sie, as the escort begins scouring through the girl's names, as the noon sun beats down and adds on to my deep, deep tan- is how I didn't tell my parents I loved them before I left.

XXX

The girl is called.

I've seen her around before, but I can't think where. Her hair is really pretty, catching the light and making the blond look like a beautiful golden waterfall.

According to the slip of paper the escort reads, her name is Brook.

The escort walks to the other bowl, our bowl.

Who knew your fate could depend on a fish bowl?

The thought made me laugh and I smiled, snickering a little. The girl- Brook- noticed, all the way from on top of the stage. She frowned, her deep blue eyes looking into my deep blue eyes.

I'm snapped out of it when I hear a familiar name.

"Codreith Leigh!" The escort announces excitedly, as if she had just given out the winning lottery numbers.

I spin around wildly. Sie is saying something, something like, _it's okay he'll be alright he's a good fighter_, but I barely hear it.

Finally I spot Cody. His tanned face is pale, as white as a sheet, and he looks like someone had just slapped him right across the face. With a chair. Made of iron.

He trudges up the aisle, and suddenly, something inside me snaps. I run past the other fourteen-year-olds, burst into the aisle and push Cody behind me. Like I'm protecting him from a lion.

"I volunteer!" I gasp out. Cody grips my arm from behind me. I glance at him sideways, not wanting to turn fully around, not when I'm on camera. Color was starting to come back to his face, but tears were springing in his eyes. The same deep blue eyes.

The next thing I know, I'm on stage, shaking hands with Brook, who looks at me in both skepticism, and… admiration.


	5. District Five-Reapings

**There is a few things I need to clear up real quick in this here author's note:  
1. I don't own the Hunger Games (I don't think I put the disclaimer in the story so far, but you might as well know my name's not Suzanne.)  
2. The first little paragraph in Spark's POV is lyrics from a song. If you want to hear the song, go to YouTube and look up Miley Cyrus Backyard Sessions What Have They Done To My Song. Also, I don't own that song.  
3. God is mentioned briefly in Spark's POV. If you don't believe in God, that's cool. If you do, that's cool also. I am by no means telling you what to believe in, so don't think that way.  
4. I KNOW Atom's POV is short. It's supposed to be that way. Don't worry, you learn more about him and his life later.  
Last thing, I promise.  
5. In Atom's POV, there is a quote from ****_A Tale of Two Cities. _****I don't own that either. **

**You may now read on! (Oh, and please review :))**

**Spark Alberto- 13**

_Look what they've done, to my brain, ma._

_Look what they've done to my brain._

_Ya they, picked it like a chicken bone, and think I'm half-insane, ma._

_Look what they've done, to my brain. _

I'm singing quietly under my breath in Spanish, slow flowing words and notes. It's one of my favorite songs from the old times- before the Capital. I wasn't alive, but my mother was and she taught me the olden ways.

_"Where would we be if we lose sight of what the world used to be? Relying on the Capital, all of us. You must never forget the old ways, darling." _My mother used to tell me that all the time, especially when the Hunger Games came to town each year.

I've been up since day-break, storing home-made spices in glass jars. Sometimes, if I'm careful, I can sell them. I put all the money I make in an old coffee mug that my family uses as a bank. Eventually, when there's enough, my mom can have the operation.

But that's just the problem isn't it? There's never enough of anything good. Never enough money, never enough peace, and- what I had to learn the hard way this year- never enough luck.

It's these things I think about while the sun rises lazily in the sky, leaving brilliant orange streaks in the clouds. I can feel the sun warming my skin as I tighten the lid on the jar of some dried basil leaves, the sun's rays spilling through the windowless window frame. Everyone will be awake soon.

I walk three feet into the kitchen area, and add the basil to rows and rows of all kinds of different spices. Then I pull out a giant bucket and began to walk outside, down to the well.

There's no running water in the shack.

To get to the well, you have to trudge through some of the woods that are inside the fence surrounding District 5. The fences are electrocuted, and considering that District 5 is the power and electricity district… well nobody could be stupid enough to test the fences.

There used to be an old sign hammered onto the well, but it disappeared when I was seven. I still remember though; _Magicae Euge_. Magic Well. Honestly, the only thing magical about it is that the water is clean.

I fill the bucket and stumble back home.

XXX

Only too soon am I standing with the thirteen-year-olds, the only Hispanic one against them. None of my siblings are with me; they both sit in the stands with my father. My mother was too sick to come.

The escort, her name is Rita, is smiling. I would smile too. On any other God-given day, boy would I smile. But this is no ordinary day.

And after seeing, year after year, what happens, I know that God has no control over these games.

Rita calls my name.

"Voy a matar a la capital con mis propias manos! ¿Cómo se atreven me quitan cuando mi madre se está muriendo!" I scream bloody murder in Spanish, crying and red in the face. Peacekeepers yank my arms, dragging me, kicking and screaming, to the stage. One of the pulls on my long black hair, yanking my head back so fast my neck pops.

Never enough luck.

**Atom Sinclair- 15**

There was a poem I read once. Really old thing, the pages practically falling apart in my hands.

_It was the best of times, it was the worst of times_.

And it was true.

As for right now… well right now was defiantly in the "worst of times" category. The poem is what I think about as I walk up the stage and into the Capital building.


	6. District Six-Reapins

**Regina Archer-15**

I watch the sun rise. The sky turns from indigo to lighter blue, orange and purple streaks reaching out across the clouds.

It's beautiful, as always.

Am I going to volunteer today? No.

Will I get picked anyway? God I hope not.

My dad calls me into the house. I get up, brush off my sleep shorts, and go inside to get dressed.

I've always liked our house. It's not very big, but that's okay. It just makes it cozier. The outside is made of gray bricks and white, vinyl siding. There's a small garden out back, where I watch the sun rise and set every day. I leave the actual gardening to my mother.

My room is in the back of the one-story house.

I leaf through clothes folded neatly in my dresser. I decide on a light blue blouse and small, black heels. I stand in front of the mirror. Black curls brush my shoulders, light green eyes staring back at me.

I walk to the reaping alone.

XXX

"Regina! Reggie, over here!" Beth is calling at me from our section. I give her a smile and step up to the check-in booth. A peacekeeper takes my blood, and I walk over to my peppy friend.

"Hey Beth." I say, still smiling. Sun rise Regina is gone now. Popular Regina takes her place.

"I love that color on you! Oh I would _kill _of hair like yours!" She squeals.

"Oh don't say that. You have such pretty highlights in _your _hair." She smiles, patting her short blonde bob. That was Popular Regina's job. Make the others feel good.

Pretty soon, Holly, Macy, and Kayleigh arrive. Each of the girls are beautiful, but they look at me like I'm royalty. Why? Four years, and I still don't know.

For example, Holly has bright red hair and can play piano like a genius, but would trade all that for less freckles.

Macy is a whiz at mathematics and has soft brown eyes, but wishes more than anything that her wavy brown hair was straight.

Kayleigh can (and has) kick every boy's butt with amazing fighting skills, and has an amazing body because of it, but would go to the Hunger Games for tanner skin.

I'm there to make sure they don't starve and hurt themselves, trying to achieve perfection.

Is there even such a thing?

I'm brought out of my thoughts by the escort, Daphne, talking about the games.

"And what an honor, that this year, the mentor for District Five is none other than the youngest victor for this district yet! Please welcome Abigail North!" A thirteen year old girl stands and waves a little, clearly not looking for attention.

"Yes, thank you Abigail. And now for the girl tribute."

She pulls a name.

It's mine.

Nobody volunteers.

I can't believe it! Out of all of my friends, none of them want to save me. It's mutiny.

I walk up, a silent tear streaming down my cheek.

**Axel Porter-17**

I volunteer.

I want to experience something more than poverty.

I want a chance at freedom.


End file.
